Gabriel nodded. He had briefed Lev on Dina’s findings that morning, and Lev had immediately gone to Jerusalem to see the prime minister and Shamron.

“To be honest with you, I never put much stock in the Khaled myth,” Shamron said. “I always assumed the boy had changed his name and had chosen to live out his life free from the shadow of his grandfather and father—free of the shadow of this land.”

“So did I,” said Gabriel, “but the case is compelling.”

“Yes, it is. Why didn’t anyone ever make the connection between the dates of Buenos Aires and Istanbul?”

“It was assumed to be a coincidence,” Gabriel said. “Besides, there wasn’t enough evidence to close the circle. No one ever thought to look at Beit Sayeed until now.”

“She’s very good, this girl Dina.”

“I’m afraid it’s something of an obsession with her.”

“You’re referring to the fact she was at Dizengoff Square the day the Number Five exploded?”

“How did you know that?”

“I took the liberty of reviewing the personnel files of your team. You chose well.”

“She knows a lot about you, including a few things you never told me.”

“Such as?”

“I never knew it was Rabin who drove the getaway car after you killed Sheikh Asad.”

“We were very close after that, Rabin and I, but I’m afraid we parted company over Oslo. Rabin believed that Arafat was down and that it was time to strike a deal. I told him Arafat was striking a deal because he was down, that Arafat intended to use Oslo as a way to wage war against us by other means. I was right, of course. For Arafat, Oslo was just another step in his ‘phased strategy’ to bring about our destruction. He said so in his own words, when he was speaking in Arabic to his people.”

Shamron closed his eyes. “I take no satisfaction in being proven correct. Rabin’s death was a terrible blow to me. His opponents called him a traitor and a Nazi, and then they killed him. We murdered one of our own. We succumbed to the Arab disease.” He shook his head slowly. “Still, I suppose it was all necessary, this delusional attempt to make peace with our sworn enemies. It’s steeled our spine for the steps we’ll need to take if we are to survive in this land.”

The next subject, the demolition of Beit Sayeed, Gabriel approached with great caution.

“It was a Palmach operation, was it not?”

“What exactly do you want to know, Gabriel?”

“Were you there?”

Shamron exhaled heavily, then nodded once. “We had no choice. Beit Sayeed was a base of operations for Sheikh Asad’s militia. We couldn’t leave such a hostile village in our midst. After the sheikh’s death, it was necessary to deal the remnants of his force a fatal blow.”